Variations on the Joining of Loghain
by femalegamer
Summary: A look at what might have happened between the end of the Landsmeet and leaving for Redcliffe Castle, particularly just after the Joining.  Some are variations are humorous, but others are not.  As you would expect, Alistair is off-stage, but there.


Variations on the Joining of Loghain

_Apologies to David Ives, author of "Variations on the Death of Trotsky". This was inspired by a post by Coststolove on the Loghain_Mac_Tir livejournal community._

A gentleman rises from a chair on the stage and approaches an oak podium. He opens a large, leather bound tome with the arms of Fereldan on the cover and reads:

"At the Landsmeet of Ferelden in the thirtieth year of the Dragon Age, Teyrn Loghain of Gwaren was defeated in single combat by a Grey Warden. He was conscripted and forced to undergo the Joining, a mysterious ritual."

**Variation One**

Loghain, battered and bloody, tips back his head and drinks deeply of the Chalice of Joining. He immediately falls to the floor. Riordan, an Orlesian Grey Warden, kneels besides him and checks his breathing and then listens to his heart.

"He's dead. I suppose it was worth trying."

**Variation Two**

Loghain drinks deeply from the Chalice of Joining and immediately falls to the floor. Riordan, an Orlesian Grey Warden, kneels besides him and checks his vitals. "I believe that he will survive. I believe this is an excellent opportunity for you to reconcile your comrades to the changes you have wrought."

The Grey Warden, her race and class weaponry concealed by an all-concealing cloak, leaves the room. Wynne, a lean, gray-haired woman in mage's robes, stands in the hallway.

"So you really thought it was a fair trade, Alistair for Loghain? I warned him that you would break his heart!" She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

"You're welcome to join Alistair, if you feel that strongly, Wynne," the warden replies acidly as she pushes past the mage.

"Oh, it won't be a problem, dear... that cup was poisoned."

**Variation Three**

The Grey Warden in her all-concealing cloak leaves the room. Leliana, a delicate red-haired woman in leathers, stands in the hallway and begins to walk beside the Warden.

"Are you certain that this was the best choice? The Chantry teaches that forgiveness is a virtue, but Alistair has already given so much to the cause, has he not?" she questions.

"Are you implying that he's given more to the cause than I have, Leliana? Or more than the Teyrn has? Haven't you read the stories, heard the rumors about what's he's given up for Fereldan?" The warden glares at the bard, brow furrowed in anger.

"Alistair loves you, and you do this to him! How could you think that was the right thing to do?" the bard retorts, giving up all pretense that this was anything but personal.

The Warden throws back her hood, revealing her elven nature. She clenches her eyes shut in frustration, grabbing handfuls of cloak lest she throw more than her voice at the bard. Still, sparkles of magic dance around her hands. "Leliana, Eamon was going to make him king. Alistair already told me that there was no way an elf could be Queen, and no way he would cheat whatever woman could hold the throne." Her eyes fly open and a malicious gleam comes to them.

"This was my revenge. At least I kept Anora from killing him."

**Variation Four**

The Grey Warden in her all-concealing cloak leaves the room and stalks down the empty hallway. Anora, Loghain's daughter and Queen of Fereldan, jumps up from a chair in a small sitting room nearby. On spotting the Warden, she immediately runs to her.

"Did my father survive? Please, tell me that he lives!"

The Warden sweeps back her hood, revealing her noble Cousland features, creased with sadness. "I'm sorry, Anora, he did not survive the Joining." The queen's face crumples in on itself in despair.

The sound of heavy booted feet echo from the hallway behind the Warden. The former Teyrn comes around the corner, shaking his his head in befuddlement. He is so befuddled, in fact, that he allows himself to be helped by Riordan. Anora can do nothing but stand in utter shock as they walk past.

The Warden leans in close to hiss in the Queen's ear: "_That's_ for betraying us to Cauthrien."

**Variation Five**

The Grey Warden leaves the room and stalks down the empty hallway, hooded cloak flowing behind her dramatically. She flings open the common room of her little band's chambers and flings back her hood.

"I don't want to hear it. Not from you, Wynne, not about how I betrayed Alistair, "her voice barks from her diminutive Dwarven body. "We need the strongest commander; I'm a warrior, not a leader of armies, and neither is Alistair. Some day, he'll forgive me. Or he won't, but at least there'll be a world for him to make that decision, with luck. He wouldn't listen to me, and sometimes you have to do what you have to do."

"Yes, that's very true," Alistair's voice rings out from his position behind the now closed door, as he stabs the dwarven woman through the heart.

**Variation Six**

The Grey Warden shook her head at Riordan. "I'll not leave him, after everything it took to get here." The daughter of the Teyrn of Highever removes her cloak and folds it, putting it under the head of the former Teryn of Gwaren. Riordan raises an eyebrow as she smooths the wisps of hair back that have escaped Loghain's braids.

"I remember the first time I saw him, you know. Currying his own horse, rather than let one our stablehands do it. I think he was coming back from somewhere through our lands."

Her stream of memories goes on until Loghain blearily opens his eyes. "I've been meaning to tell you, there were probably better ways of getting my attention." Exhausted, his eyes close as he falls into true sleep.

**Variation Seven**

The Grey Warden stalks out of the room and down the empty hallway. She pauses outside of the door to the common area her little band shares, but turns aside. She can't handle them now; emotions will be too raw, she thinks.

Unfortunately, that means she runs into someone she has much less desire to see. The prematurely aged arl couldn't look more upset if he had storm clouds dancing around his head.

"Do you know what you've done, you unthinking little child? Do you? Anora on the throne, Loghain a Grey Warden! We'll never calm Orlais down, never! I almost had Cailan ready to marry one of them, I could have persuaded Alistair, but Anora? She's been _raised _on how evil they are, she would rather walk over broken glass than marry an Orlesian nobleman!"

The petite elf woman could do nothing but gape at this tirade. Arl Eamon had been so... calm! Grandfatherly, even, and now he was shouting at her in the halls of the palace. She was even less prepared when the shouting culminated in him flinging himself at her. So startled was she that he managed to get his hands around her throat before she could act.

Her face was just beginning to clash, pale blue against red Dalish tatoos when the metallic ***scrape-thunk* **armored boots became louder behind her. A fist, equally armored, lashed out as her vision began to dim, clonking Eamon in the side of the head.

"I'll trouble you to keep your hands off my commander in the future, Eamon," Loghain drawls.

**Variation Eight**

The Landsmeet has ended and the sundry assorted nobles and clergy turn to leave until only the small group in the center remain: the Grey Warden and her dog, and Loghain Mac Tir, Hero of River Dane, Teyrn of Gwaren. He sits where he fell, head forward from exhaustion, or perhaps shame. Even Riordan has gone, to prepare for the Ritual of Joining.

"So, Warden, you really expect me to join your little band of charlatans, your make believe heroes? If it weren't for you, half the nobles that stood against me wouldn't have done so, you know." His voice is softer now, but not beaten. Never that.

"Loghain, you betrayed your king to his death, and you betrayed Fereldan by denying this was a Blight." The slight elf lashes out with her booted foot, connecting solidly with his jaw, tossing him to the floor. "And you decided it was acceptable to sell my people into slavery to make up the shortfalls your civil war made in your armies. Don't blame it on Howe. I saw the papers, with your signature."

"I deny nothing. I claim my sins, whelp. You should do so well. So, I'm such a villain – and why did you decide I was worth saving, then?" he asks, torn between sneering and being genuinely interested as he wipes blood from his split lip.

She shakes her head, lip curled in disgust. "I didn't save you for you. Seek redemption if you dare. I saved you because it's clear you despise the Grey Wardens. To make you become what you hate, just as my life was ripped from me. Didn't you know, that's how Grey Wardens breed, from what I've heard in my short time as one. Alistair was wrong – we are not something to be proud of. Grey Wardens deserve pity, like lepers."

Slowly, the older man pushes his battered body to his feet. "In that case, Warden, I believe I'll fit right in."


End file.
